A Shared Secret
by LittleMissWolfie
Summary: If anyone were to see the two, they would automatically see the bond they shared.


Ib was no stranger to nightmares.

After her adventure in the gallery five years previous, nightmares of that horrid place haunted her most every day. She would shoot up in bed, breathing heavily, but never screamed. They weren't quite that bad.

This one, however, was a _nightmare._ The fourteen-year-old shrieked bloody murder, eyes blind to the real world even after she woke. All she could see was the gallery. Mary coming after her with a pallet knife. Paintings jumping off walls. Dolls lumbering towards her, smiling that slasher smile of theirs. Headless mannequins chasing her ruthlessly.

When her mother and father came in to check on her, she screamed louder. "Garry!" she wailed, thrashing to get away from her parents. "Garry! Where are you? _GARRY_!"

Most of her tales these days consisted of her mysterious friend Garry. Her parents had never even talked to him on the phone, but they had his number written down from the times Ib'd called them from his house. They dialed the number quickly, and both were immensely surprised when a grown man's voice answered. "Do you have _any_ idea what time it is?" the man grumbled sleepily. "Ib, really, you should go to bed."

"Who is this?" her father demanded protectively.

A sharp intake of breath was heard from the other end of the line. "Are you Ib's dad?"

"Yes. Who are you?"

"I'm Garry, sir. Is something wrong?" His voice made it apparent that he was most definitely awake now and very much concerned for Ib.

Just then, a door upstairs slammed. "Ib, come out of the closet!" her mother called.

"Ib had a nightmare and she's hiding in the closet," her father said over the line. "She's screaming for you. Can you—"

"I'll be right there," Garry said, and the line died.

Not five minutes later, a tall man with purple hair and a raggedy jacket stood in the doorway of the family's house. "Where's Ib?" he said without preamble. Her mother and father led him up the stairs to the hall closet. "I'll take care of it—you guys can relax." With that he opened the door and stepped in.

Ib was curled up in the fetal position, sobbing uncontrollably. "Garry?" she asked, voice small.

The older boy gathered her in his arms and began to rock her gently. "Hey, kiddo," he said softly. "Are those paintings trying to get you again?"

She nodded and held out her cupped hands, revealing the red rose. "They didn't get my rose, though."

He smiled. "That's a girl! Make sure you _always_ have it with you. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you." And he was being completely honest. Ib was his only lifeline in the real world—his parents cut him off and his sister didn't answer the phone anymore. "Do you want some more candy?"

"Yes, please."

He chuckled and dropped one of his hard lemon candies in her hand. "Eat that whenever. C'mon, Ib, let's get you back to bed." She nodded and took his hand.

When they left the closet, her parents stood outside. She started trembling again, and Garry saw why—her mother, with her hair down and her red nightgown, looked exactly like the Lady in Red. "Uh, ma'am," he said carefully, so as not to offend her. "You may want to throw that nightgown out. It reminds Ib of something scary that happened to her years ago."

Her parents stood, stunned, as Garry led Ib to her bedroom. He tucked her into her red velvet sheets, placed her rose gently in the vase she kept on her nightstand, and lit one of the candles on her dresser with his lighter. "Are you okay now, Ib?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and patting her hair.

Her hand reached out to his like it'd done so many times in the gallery. "Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

"Anything for you, Ib."

And so there he sat, fingers entwined with Ib, until her breathing evened and her grip loosened. Even after she was peacefully asleep, he sat there, watching her with unadulterated adoration evident on his face.

So much so, her parents didn't disturb them.

If anyone were to see the two, they would automatically see the bond they shared. It wasn't completely understood why they needed each other so desperately, and a secret it would forever remain. Only the two rose bearers knew, and only they would ever be able to understand.


End file.
